


Once In A Blue Moon

by e_dog



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:51:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_dog/pseuds/e_dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maura wanted to explain to Jane that her alcoholic beverage may have lowered her inhibitions, but the act of kissing her best friend was a decision she made all on her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once In A Blue Moon

**Author's Note:**

> A work I've posted elsewhere. So not entirely new, but new to this archive.

~*~*~*~

 **It was a phrase** that Dr. Maura Isles had never quite fully understood.   

 _Once in a blue moon_?  It was similar to that other expression.  Which one was it?  Oh, right.  _When pigs fly_.  The first time she had heard those particular words, they had come right from Jane Rizzoli’s mouth (which was usually the case whenever Maura learned any new phrase).  She wasn’t even sure what they were talking about at the time, but Jane had exclaimed it loudly.  _Yeah right!_ Maura could hear resonantly in Jane’s signature smoky voice.  _That will happen when pigs fly!_

She didn’t quite comprehend it then, but perhaps now . . .

 Maura’s lips still tingled from the brief contact and when her eyes opened, she was met with dark, intensely curious orbs.  It was true.  Jane was usually very quick to correct her idiom usage and/or spout off some nonsensical sports history that Maura had no interest in whatsoever.  This time, however, Jane had used that mouth in quite a different way.  Different in a more ‘physical, intimate, using little to no words’ kind of way.  What surprised Maura more was the fact that she had enjoyed it.  _A lot._

“Um,” Jane mumbled.  “That was probably the beer.” 

Maura wanted to explain to Jane that her alcoholic beverage may have lowered her inhibitions, but the act of kissing her best friend was a decision she had made all on her own.   In addition, while anyone might panic at the prospect of kissing their best friend, it most certainly didn’t help that Jane Rizzoli’s best friend was Maura. 

A woman. 

Seeing the fear in the detective’s eyes, however, kept her words from tumbling out in what Jane would sometimes affectionately call ‘word vomit’.  Instead, she said uneasily, “Perhaps that is the case, Jane.” 

Jane spoke again, this time avoiding her eyes.  “I need your help here.” 

“Whatever you need, Jane.” 

“How did we get here?” 

“Here? We walked.” 

“No, no, Maura.  Not literally. . .I mean, how did I end up. . .um?” 

“Kissing me?”

“Yeah, that.” 

Maura paused, wondering what it was Jane wanted to hear.  They both knew that Maura could not lie. 

“Well, Jane, we were discussing your relationship with Casey (or lack there of).  _The Robber_ was becoming crowded, to say the least, so we paid our tab and took the conversation outside.  I believe I teased you about your night with him, to which you vehemently denied having sex. . . again.  I’m not sure why you wouldn’t want to have sex with him, but I digress.  After a bit of banter, you argued that he wasn’t even a good kisser to which I replied ‘Perhaps he just needed a little assistance learning the give and take of a proper kiss’ and your answer to that was, ‘Oh, so now Dr. Isles is the new Dr. Phil?’.  By the way, who is that?” 

Jane couldn’t help the low chuckle rumbling in her throat.  “He’s a supposed relationship guru . . .”

“Okay, well, your statement had me completely perplexed.   Not because I didn’t know the reference, but at the way you began studying me.  You wistfully commented how you wished the kiss could’ve gone.  So, I asked what you would have liked to have happen and then you pulled me toward you to demonstr. . .” 

“Okay, good enough,” Jane stopped her, producing a face Maura had seen many times.  Like a little girl in elementary school that winced at the thought of cooties.  “Just wanted to make sure I’m not in some kind of waking dream here.  Listen, Maur, I’m kinda drunk.” 

“I seem to be experiencing a bit of a hum myself,” Maura admitted. 

“Buzz,” Jane corrected, the reply purely automatic. 

“Fine, _buzz_ ,” Maura sighed.

“So we’re in agreement then?  Alcohol induced silliness between best friends?” Jane asked hopefully, raising an eyebrow as she did so.  “One of those crazy, once in a blue moon occurrences that’ll probably never happen again anyway?” 

“Actually. . .,” Maura began. 

This time it was Jane’s turn to sigh.  “Here we go. . .” 

“The origin of what the blue moon represents and what it is are two completely different things,” Maura continued.  “If you are to suggest that what just happened would only occur during a blue moon, then that occurrence would happen more often than you think.  Of course, it depends which school of thought you’d like to follow. . .” 

“Maura!” Jane almost shouted. 

“Word vomit?” Maura said, wincing. 

“Yes,” Jane replied, rubbing her eyes. 

Maura went still, trying desperately to understand what went wrong.  No.  Scratch that.  She knew exactly what had gone wrong, at least in the way Jane would see it.  The kiss was nice and natural and absolutely frightening and while all of that may seem absolutely wonderful to any other person on this planet, for Jane Rizzoli that meant this was the end all, be all for their relationship.  If she let the detective think too long, the reality would sink in and the fear would overwhelm them both.

Jane shook her head now.  “No, Maur.  We can’t.  You’re my best friend.   I’m no good for you anyway.” 

Maura frowned.  She had heard those words one too many times before.  Not from Jane, necessarily.  Just Others.  Others who had claimed to be friends, but somehow had lost Maura’s number during moments of calamity.  Others whom had professed vows, then broke them only a few years later.  Others who had uttered proclamations of love only to take it back, to wave it off as some by product of their desperate professions.  Maura Isles had spent a lifetime letting Others dictate what she should feel and when she should feel it. 

She was not about to let Jane do the same thing. 

“I think it’s admirable that you want to protect me all the time, Jane,” Maura said quietly.  “But why on earth would you want to protect me from you?” 

Jane had no words, no answer.  She simply wrapped up Maura in one of the warmest hugs the two had ever shared. 

Maybe Jane could hope that this display of affection would deter Maura from asking her questions, but it wouldn’t.   It only fueled Maura’s desire to know what the hell was really going on in Jane Rizzoli’s head. 

“You’re too good for me, Maura, you know that?” Jane whispered, gently breaking the embrace. 

“Jane, you’re not making any sense,” Maura said with a heavy sigh. 

Jane tilted her head ever so slightly.  “I know.  I’m sorry. C’mon, drive me home.”  Then she leaned toward Maura, placed another soft, quick kiss on her lips before tangling their arms together to walk toward her car.  Maura nearly forgot to open her eyes (after they had shut of their own accord), thankful that Jane was leading them as they walked.  And as Maura blinked, waiting for the world to refocus it became abundantly clear that the kiss was more than just a reassurance of their friendship. 

It had made the proclaimed Queen of the Dead feel something she hadn’t been able to feel in quite some time. 

Alive.  Wanted. 

Loved. 

It was that last thought that had Maura’s feet seemingly knot together as she walked, forcing Jane to hold her close to keep her upright.  Jane Rizzoli, her ever present pillar. 

Once Maura had figured out her left from her right, she found that she was grasping onto the collar of Jane’s coat.  The faint smell of lavender perfume suddenly so loud.  Their cold breaths began to mingle together as they found themselves caught in the oddest of staring contests, neither one wanting to blink, both afraid of something. 

“Forget how to walk?” Jane asked playfully, the first to break. 

Maura could feel herself growing hot and while she wanted to attribute that to embarrassment, she knew she could not.  Jane really was beautiful, a fact the detective was entirely oblivious to.  At this juncture, Maura could only respond to this breathtaking vision in the most basic way possible.  Still holding onto Jane’s collar, she tugged those soft lips back to hers.  There was no protest, no resistance.  Bravely, Maura teased those lips with her tongue, wanting more access and Jane acquiesced.  

An awkward moment of bumping noses broke the rhythm, but hardly deterred Maura from getting every bit that she could.  Her hands tangled deeply in Jane’s unruly hair, she planted a series of quick kisses before deciding enough was enough.  They could hardly excuse that as some friendly kiss between friends. 

Jane had wrapped her up at this point, eyes heavy and swirling dark.  She swallowed before joking, “Definitely the beer.” 

“I had wine,” Maura added meekly. 

“Whatever,” Jane said softly. 

Maura could see that Rizzoli mind at work.  Calculating, analyzing, detecting.  What she didn’t see was confusion and that was one emotion Maura surely thought would be seen.  No, Jane wasn’t confused. 

She deeply appreciated her close relationship with Jane, just as she knew Jane appreciated being close to her.   It wasn’t until now that Maura could define the word ‘close’ so sharply, so acutely. 

They drove home in relative silence.  Once in front of Jane’s apartment, she shifted her car into ‘park’ and waited.  She waited and waited and waited some more.  It had probably only been a few short minutes, but it seemed to be forever.   Jane was reluctant to leave.  So Maura bit her lip, and then said tentatively.  “Jane, just so you know, I’m not offended.  And if a blue moon were to inspire such actions from either of us again, I wouldn’t object.” 

Maura was relieved to see Jane smirk, the detective turning her head just enough to spy the hopeful ME.  When this night had turned Maura into an optimistic, infatuated teenager she wasn’t sure.  Not to say she hadn’t been exploring such guttural reactions recently to nearly every male specimen alive, but with Jane, it was different.  This wasn’t just hormonal, needy.  This was an emotional force, one she suddenly couldn’t ignore. 

“This is a bad idea,” Jane said gently. 

“You have nothing to back up such a statement,” Maura argued. 

“I have my gut,” Jane replied. 

Maura smiled then.  “And what does it say?” 

“It says. . .,” Jane began, her face softening as it seemed to dawn on her what the true answer was.  What the answer had been all along.  “Shut off the car.  You’re tired, I’m tired.  I won’t feel right letting you drive home by yourself this late.  C’mon.” 

Maura couldn’t contain her laugh.  “You should really work on your propositioning skills.”  Her best friend simply rolled her eyes and exited the car brusquely, but not before Maura could spy those lips turned up in amusement.     

As she followed Jane up the steps, she chanced a quick look at the sky.  There were no flying pigs, there was no blue moon, but did she really expect to see any of that? 

 


End file.
